Page 6 of Roark
Roark met his brother’s gaze. “Cade, Linc and I.”
“Oh, so our cousins get to know what’s going on with our mum’s death, but we don’t.” Ridge didn’t hold back the heat in his tone, and Roark couldn’t really say he blamed him.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to hold steady to his reasoning. “Yes. You know that as an FBI agent, Cade has access to people who can dig into things quickly and quietly. Linc was there the day the Station Officer from the Fire Brigade shared some of their preliminary findings, so he was automatically in the loop.”
“And you couldn’t pick up a phone and call us? We couldn’t be looped in?” Suri shook her head, her lips thinning as Roark knew she was doing her best not to cuss him out in front of Aunt Birdie.
“Not a smart move,” Aunt Birdie said. “But what’s done is done. What did the report say?”
Roark stood then. He was tired of everyone looking down on him as if he were in the hot seat. Well, he technically was, but he didn’t have to act like it. “She was alive when the fire was started.” He said those words quickly, because no matter how many times he’d read them, or saw the typed words on the report in his mind, he still hadn’t come to terms with them. “There was smoke in her lungs.” He cleared his throat and pushed on. “There was a drug in her system.”
“A drug?” Suri asked.
“Succinylcholine. It’s like a powerful muscle relaxant. So, she laid in her bed, wide awake, while her room and the ones closest to her were set on fire.” There, he’d said it out loud. Somebody had killed his mother, and Roark had no idea why.
Tears were already running down Suri’s face as Ridge held her closer, his lips drawn in a tight line. Even Aunt Birdie was silent.
Francois hadn’t spoken in the last few minutes but now walked around his desk and came to stand in front of them. “A detective by the name of Gibbons, who works in the Major Investigation Unit of the Metropolitan Police Department, called the office yesterday. As I’m not in the criminal division of our firm, I didn’t take the call, but the message was passed on to me because of our appointment today. The detective wishes to speak to each of you about your mother’s death. You are, of course, not advised to talk to anyone without legal counsel.” Again, the solicitor’s words were delivered in a very dour tone as he folded his hands in front of him.
“Oh, my stars. They’re suspects.” Aunt Birdie stepped closer to Francois. “You’re saying my nephews and niece are suspected of killing their mother? Of drugging her and burning her in her bed? I’ve never heard anything more preposterous in my life. We’re Donovans! We’re dedicated to family above all else. You and this detective are out of your damn minds!”
Roark moved to place a hand on his aunt’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Aunt Birdie. I’ll handle this.” He didn’t look back at Ridge and Suri. He kept his hand on his aunt and stared Francois directly in the eye. “We’ll make statements regarding our whereabouts at the time of the fire, and that’s it. I’ll contact Edward Burrows in your criminal department, and he can have those statements notarized and submit them to the detective. That’ll be the extent of our cooperation with the MPD.”
Francois acknowledged Roark’s words with a stiff nod.
“As for the will and the estate, send me, my brother and sister a copy. We’ll handle whatever’s necessary and let you know if we have any difficulty. Now, we’re leaving.” Roark guided Aunt Birdie toward the door, hoping his siblings would follow.
They did, and once outside the solicitor’s office, they watched as Roark helped Aunt Birdie into the back seat of the car waiting at the curb for them.
“We’re not finished.” Suri wasn’t going to let this go easily. “I’m beyond pissed at you for keeping this from us, and I know you have more answers than what you just gave in there.”
“She’s right,” Ridge added. “We’ll meet at your place tonight to discuss.”
Roark only nodded his agreement. There was no use in arguing with them on the street. He wasn’t going to apologize for doing what he’d thought was right to protect them. He’d been doing so all their lives and he wasn’t going to stop now, no matter how bent out of shape they were about it.
Chapter 3
Painswick
Gloucestershire, England
“Dammit!” Tamika ran to the stove, pulled on oven mitts and moved the large pot of sauce to one of the back burners. She turned off the burner she’d had on high heat—hence the reason her meatballs and sauce were bubbling. Well, that wasn’t the only reason. If she hadn’t been focusing on the right words to put in the text message she was sending, she would’ve remembered to keep her mind on her food.
While the mitts were on, she pulled open the over door and eased the shelf out midway. She almost sighed as the aroma of the fresh bread hit her nostrils. It needed a few more minutes to get that golden brown on top, and then she could take it out. After putting it back and closing the oven, she moved to the counter and picked up her phone.
Of course, there was no response yet. It was silly to think he would’ve responded so soon. Especially since he’d been ignoring her for the last week.
“She won’t eat a thing,” Tuppence, the housekeeper said when she entered the kitchen. “For weeks, I used money from the house account to pay for one of those meal services. She never ate any of it.”
Because the food was probably nasty.
Tamika didn’t say that aloud and she went to the stove so Tuppence couldn’t see the face she made to go with her thoughts. “My mother taught me how to cook. My grandmother taught her. She’ll eat this spaghetti and meatballs. It was my Dad’s favorite.”
Again, she left out what she was really thinking. Her mother was going to eat this spaghetti, even if Tamika had to stuff each forkful into her mouth.
Sandra Rayder had lost forty pounds in the last year so that her once-toned build now appeared gaunt and wiry. Legs that used to walk unflinchingly on five-inch heels barely held her small frame upright when Tamika had insisted she get out of bed and walk into the bathroom for her shower. Her mother wasn’t sick, at least not physically. Sandra was heartbroken and depressed, and while Tamika knew she couldn’t feed her mother out of either of those conditions, she was hopeful that leaving her apartment in Alexandria, Virginia to come to the English countryside would make a difference.
Tamika was still trying to convince herself that was her main reason for coming here.
